Drastic Changes of Heart
by Virago
Summary: If you get him to trust you, to consider you one of his friends, I’ll leave you be. We can go our separate ways like you are always raving about. If you don’t, you’re stuck with me until the end of your short miserable life.”
1. Chapter 1

**Drastic Changes of Heart**

**One**

_A/N: Ok, here it is. The Entreri/Drizzt get together story. I know perhaps that I should have written this one first but the idea didn't come to me until after I wrote 'Almost Enemies'. I guess the little leprechauns that whisper naughties in my ear have been very, very busy. This story has taken me quite awhile to write. I tried with all of my heart not to make it silly, but it just didn't turn out that way. Sorry guys._

_Please be warned, this has mild-Cattie-Brie bashing in it. I'm sorry but Artemis is not too fond of her._

_Don't get scared, it'll live up to its rating in time. ._

Entreri's grip on his large mug of honey mead threatened to shatter the poor substance as he shifted his glare from Jarlaxle to the other drow that had just walked in. There he was, in all his pathetic holy glory, strolling into the inn's small tavern liked his owned the damn place. Drizzt Do'Urden. The same drow ranger that he had thought he killed two years prior. Yet here he was, very much alive and very, very healthy looking. Perhaps too healthy, the assassin thought. The elf was all smiles to the barkeep, not minding that half of the customers were glancing between him and the other drow that occupied the dimly illuminated room.

He sank lower in his chair slouching and pulling on the brim of his bolero trying to better hide his face. Don't see me, don't see me, he chanted over and over inside of his head, taking no pleasure that his dark elf companion was probably picking up on his erratic thoughts. He hunched his shoulders lower and barely suppressed a disappointed groan when the barkeep gestured over to the not-so-happy couple. No doubt he thought that Drizzt and Jarlaxle were buddies. Ignorant prick. It didn't help matters that the mercenary waved his arms and motioned Drizzt and his friend over to them.

"What in the Nine Hells do you think you are doing, elf!" Entreri hissed, wanting more than ever before to put his dagger between Jarlaxle's shoulder blades.

"Well, you now know that you didn't kill him, so why not invite him over to have a drink. Besides, don't you think its time to put your differences behind you?" the elf stated, his white smile almost taking over his face, "It might be fun."

"No," the assassin grumbled and took a long drink from his glass mug. That's when he realized that Drizzt and his female companion was indeed taking up the mercenary's offer and coming right towards them. What the fuck was her name anyway? Not that it mattered; she was a useless piece of trash if he ever saw one. Always, 'Drizzt, let's do this! Drizzt, let's do that! Drizzt, why must you fight with Entreri again! Drizzt, does my hair look ok?' The thought alone was enough to make him want to break her teeth. On top of all of that, she constantly fawned over him like a love sick whore. Was the ranger so dense that he couldn't recognize that the stupid woman was smitten with him? From the way he acted around her, he supposed not. Blind as a bat and naïve as a wee school boy. How utterly cute.

That thought almost made him want to gag. More like how utterly disgusting, Entreri growled and came to his feet quickly, trying to make it to the sanctuary that was his room before the ranger made it to the table and noticed that he was there. As if Lady Luck had abandoned him for life, he came face to face with the slightly shorter man as soon as he stood.

Violet eyes widen in shock and nimble hands set themselves on the hilts of his twin scimitars. "Entreri," the drow said hesitantly as if he was trying to find something else to say.

"Do'Urden," the assassin said back and then a thought came to him when he realized it was well past time Jarlaxle got a surprise. Entreri reached up and clapped a friendly hand on the ranger's shoulder, "We should spar sometime. I feel my skills are getting rusty with this old man around," he stated gesturing toward the sitting mercenary. "If your going to be around for a while that is," then he forced a smile onto his face, well it wasn't really that forced. The look on Do'Urden's face was enough to smile about, "Look me up sometime. It might be fun," he added as an afterthought before walking upstairs, his mug of honey mead still gripped in a tight fist. Let Jarlaxle chew on that for a bit.

**_SS_**

Bright pinpoints of light filtered in from underneath his eye lids forcing him to wake and face the real world. He denied those patches of sun and groaned, rolling over and taking the blanket with him putting it up over his head to fend off the offending brightness.

"Now who's the old man?" came the mocking question, "You can't even get out of bed."

Entreri stuck a hand out and waved it at the bald elf as if to shoo him away, "Lemme sleep," his voice slightly muffled by layers of cloth.

"What was with you last night," huffed the mercenary, "you were acting like you and Do'Urden were life long buddies instead of bitter enemies?"

The human sighed and gave up on his sleep, "Is that not what you wanted? Me to play nice?" he muttered and sat up let the cozy covers fall off of his bare chest, "'It might be fun' Jarlaxle says. Right. I'd rather suck my own life force out."

The dark elf blinked, "Is that even possible?"

A looked pasted Entreri's dark eyes as his gaze shifted to his dagger. "I really don't know," he said after a few moments of contemplation.

Jarlaxle smiled, "A dare then?"

The human's look turned suspicious, "I don't think so."

"You don't trust me? After all that we've been through?" somehow his got his tone to come out as hurtful and betrayed. Then came the smile, "It might be fun?"

Entreri once more waved his hand, "Whatever."

The drow took that as a yes, "Great! I have just the thing!"

One dark eyebrow rose as if to say that the dark elf had lost his mind.

"You go and hunt Do'Urden down and ask him to spar," he continued not paying the other man any mind what-so-ever, "Like you suggested last night and then take things slowly. If you get him to trust you, to consider you one of his friends, I'll leave you be. We can go our separate ways like you are always raving about. If you don't, you're stuck with me until the end of your short miserable life."

"Gee, that sounds ubber fair," not even a deaf man could have missed the sarcasm in Entreri's voice.

The bald elf jumped onto the bed and the old springs gave a small squeak, "Great!" he exclaimed, completely missing the point that it really wasn't so.

**_TBC..._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Drastic Changes of Heart**

**Two**

_A/N: Ok, I am so sorry that this story is silly, I tried so very hard to make it serious, but they just didn't want to cooperate with my demands! Curse them!_

_I took me sooooo long to write this chapter. I'm not really good at writing action stuff, like fights and battles, or in this case, sparing. I guess I should have thought twice before creating this fic. '_

****

Entreri walked from the inn, trying to get away from the sounds of every happy go lucky person that haunted his worst nightmares. It was as if every joyful person around was at that one inn at the same time. He sighed and looked to the sky, thinking that some god or goddess up there somewhere really must hate him to put him through so much pain and agony.

As he got further from the establishment, the sounds of the loud obnoxious humans slowly faded out and the breeze that rustled the trees became the new background music for his morning. He slowed his pace and walked without a sound through the forest that settled behind the stable yard.

"Partially cloudy with a slight chance of rain," he muttered to himself, enjoying the greenery around him, thanking that there wasn't a soul around. More importantly, there was no Jarlaxle. No doubt he was in the common area trying to get into Do'Urden's dense wench's pants. The thought made his mood darken and a sneer formed on his lips, what the drow found in the irritating red-head was beyond him. Sure she was pleasant to look upon. If the candles were snuffed and you put a brown sack over her head... and if you turned your head to the side and squinted really hard. Adding all those factors brought her to a 'Maybe if I was really drunk and she was the last woman in the Realms.'

The sound of heavy breathing brought him back to the real world and he shuddered at his thoughts. _Then again_, he thought, _there are plenty of beautiful men out there that I would rather take to my bed than her, so the really drunk and last woman in the Realms is null and void. _

Having nothing better to do he followed the breathing, drastically hoping that he would catch two kids doing forbidden things so he could scare them into chastity. His thoughts made him smile as he came upon a small river running through the woods. The banks where slightly steep and the ground below him, smooth and soft with long blades of grass as if the ground had never before been stepped upon.

Another soft exhale of breath caused him to look up and what filled his sight made his blood boil with in his body with absolute rage. The drow's feet were bare, small blades of grass almost lost with in the darkness of his skin. His sword belt, cloak, and shirt where also missing.

Drizzt huffed and jumped, turning in the air as his placed the side of Icingdeath's hilt in his teeth before landing on the palm of his hand. He moved his wrist the minute it touched the earth so his body spun in prefect balance with itself. Twinkle lashed in his other hand, reflecting all the rays of the bright sun sending prisms of the purest of colors across clear waters. His lean legs spread with the twist, kicking out at unseen enemies. The arm that held him up flexed, sweat slowly beating down heated ebony as he pushed off and turned his body again, gracefully landing on his feet.

Icingdeath was back in his bare hand before Entreri could even blink. Curved blades flashed the sun's reflection as he continued to turn, one scimitar moved in front of him as the other guarded his back while the whirling circles came faster and faster. The turns completed and he let out another exhale of breath bring a blade up, slicing a falling leaf as it gently floated to the ground. Then he brought the other blade up cutting the leave in half the other way before bringing both down to cut the quarters into more pieces than the assassin could count. He spun in one more circle before the move was finished and then he stood. One hand held Twinkled in front of him in a reverse grip, the blade angling across his forearm, chest, and hip. Icingdeath was posed behind him again, slanting down his shoulder blades to stop at mid back. He was balancing on one leg, his body perfectly still; the leg opposite of the front scimitar was tucked into his body, guarding his torso with a bent knee.

He stood like that, on one leg, his breathing harsh with his workout as drops of sweat beaded down his bare back, slightly gathering by the long scar that ran from one shoulder to his opposite hip before once more making their path to the waistband of his brown breeches. Entreri opened his mouth to say something but the drow began to move again, only this time instead of painfully fast it was painfully slow. Muscles rippled beneath the darkest of ebony as his limbs carefully untangled themselves. Arms moved with more grace than a cat, Icingdeath cleared his back, his grip on the curved blade flipped with a flick of his wrist and it too was now held in a reverse grip. His back bent, his long white braid pooling on the ground.

The assassin peered at him, wondering what the crazy elf was doing now as his body bowed backwards, his hands, still gripping his blades came above his head and his bent leg slowly came out to straighten out and follow the rest of his body in its backwards roll. The black skin of his hands became lost in the slightly over grown grass and he saw the muscle's flex, it was the only warning the human had before the elf's other leg was the last to follow suit.

Entreri had seen back flips before; he even did a few himself, but never that slow, and never, ever that liquid like. It was like the drow ranger didn't possess any bones what so ever. When he was once more standing he did it again, his back bending and leg coming up to bend at the knee before straightening, his toes pointed practically the entire time. He did it a few more times, more times than the assassin thought possible before the drow sighed and stood straight, his hand reaching up to flick sweat from his brow, the deadly blade still in his hand.

"Are you going to stand in the tree line all day or are you going to say something?" the elf asked, the melodious voice soft as if it drifted upon the slight breeze.

The human shrugged and stepped out, "You aren't expecting a 'good day' are you?"

Drizzt laughed, shaking his head, "From you? I don't think the Abyss has yet frozen over."

Entreri glared at the drow, "Why couldn't you stay dead?"

Once more the elf laughed, "And why couldn't you leave me alone?"

"I hate you," he hissed his hands clenched in tight fists.

The other man sighed and walked over to the pile of his clothes, bending down to get his sword belt and sheathing his scimitars with barely a whisper of sound. "I know," he stated, his voice slightly louder as if he was just now getting his breath back. "But what puzzles me is that, normally when a person hates another, they usually do everything possible to avoid them," he looked over his shoulder at the assassin, giving no hint that he felt threatened with his back turned on the dangerous man. "They do not seek them out," he finished with another flick of his wrist, wiping the sweat from his brow before turning to face the human.

Entreri blinked, and somehow the drow thought he was getting sneered at without the look actually making itself known on the assassin's features, "I did not come and seek you out."

The elf shrugged, "No matter, you are here none the less."

"By chance," he stated his tone slightly defensive. What was it about this damned drow that had him constantly trying to keep himself in control?

Drizzt returned the blink, "Of course."

This time Entreri could not keep the sneer from forming on his lips, "Do not patronize me, Do'Urden."

The drow's look turned innocent, then he shrugged, somehow even that movement was with liquid grace, "As you wish, Entreri."

The human growled, yet before he could comment the ranger was once more speaking, "No doubt you are thinking, 'you're lucky that you're over on the other side of the bank'?" He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, "Then by all means, Entreri, cross the bank and take out your frustrations."

"I would do that elf," he stated, trying to keep his voice even, "But you are not at your best right now. Perhaps tomorrow."

The drow nodded, his eyes flashing with violet fire before he smiled, "Tomorrow then."

Entreri let him have the last word as his spun on his heal, offering a slight wave over his shoulder at the elf, presenting his back to him just as the other man had done with him.

**_TBC..._**


	3. Chapter 3

**Drastic Changes of Heart**

**Three**

_A/N: All have for today is the fan praise. Trust me, without you pooges I couldn't do this::fuzzy hugs:_

_Lord Onisyr: Thank you so much for your reviews! XD There is no other words to say how happy I am to receive them!_

For Entreri tomorrow came all too soon. He did his best to avoid his ever annoying partner-in-crime, mainly due to the fact that Jarlaxle insisted on spending all of his alone time with Drizzt's red-head wench. He frowned, a crease forming upon his brow trying, for the life of him, to remember her name. Not that he really gave a flying orc; it was the fact that he forgot something that bugged him. He prided himself on remembering even the slightest detail of everything and everyone that he came across. Something as little as forgetting a name insanely drove him nuts. Perhaps old age was indeed finally catching up with him?

The thought made him snort, sure he was old, by human standards, but not that old. Yet his face retained the youthful appearance of a twenty year old, his hair was the problem. Not that the assassin was vain, but his hair had just begun to speckle itself with the purest of gray, which started to bug him. He sighed, and reminded himself to speak with Jarlaxle when he wasn't flirting with the Human Bitch. To ask him if he was bald by choice or if he shaved his head because white hair showed up too well in the dark. Not that he cared about the elf's wellbeing, of course; he needed to ask for his purposes only.

His thoughts came to a stop as he found himself outside of Drizzt Do'Urden's bedchamber door, his hand lifted as if he was subconsciously about to knock. He growled deep in his throat and once more silently threaten to decapitate Jarlaxle for pawning off the ridiculous bet on him. He shook his head and tightened his knuckles, forcing himself to pound on the thick wood of Do'Urden's door. He waited.

And waited some more.

He glared and pounded again, hearing no movement from inside the chamber. Surely the drow was home, it was early and he was not one to hang out in the common area, especially during the busy breakfast hours. He reached up his hand once more to knock, the door swinging open as he came face to face with a very angry elf.

Water still beaded down his bare chest and dripped off his long white hair. His slim hips were covered with a white sheet that stuck close to his skin in the places where the water had soaked completely through.

"Entreri," the elf stated, his voice slightly annoyed, "What honor it is to me to be graced with your presence so early in the day."

The assassin snorted and pushed the ranger aside, walking into his room, "Save it Do'Urden. I'm in a bad mood."

That earned him a raised eyebrow, "In such a bad mood that you sought me out."

He waved his hand, as gesture saying that it didn't mattered, "We have an appointment. Remember?"

The drow nodded, "Of course, yet I did not realize that you meant to have it before I finished my morning bath."

He shrugged, "So finish. I'll just wait. Only shut the door, I'm sure not everybody wants to see you over half naked." As if to prove his point he slowly looked the elf down then up. Starting at his bare toes, then up the expanse of ebony flesh that peeked out from the folds of the sheet, only to settle on his torso and chest. Ah yes, Drizzt Do'Urden had a very nice body indeed, the thought made him hate him all the more.

Do'Urden's cheeks turned a shade darker as he realized that he still held the door open, hoping that Entreri would get the hint and leave, trying to ignore the way he scrutinized him. "Aren't you going to leave?" he asked.

The assassin shrugged again and sat himself on the edge of the other man's bed, "Nope. We're both males." Then he smiled, a small cocky upturn of his mouth, "Unless of course you're embarrassed for... reasons I could only imagine."

The drow glared at him and blushed more, muttering to himself as he slammed the door. He moved to the tub that sat in the far corner of the room that barely peeked out behind almost transparent dividers. Only when his was behind those curtains did him remove the sheet that covered him.

Entreri forced to keep his disappointed hiss to himself, trying to picture what the rest of the drow looked like, the water trailing across his ebony skin like the blood he wished to bathe the elf in. Now that was a much better mental image. The drow lying in a pool of his own crimson, the dark redness of it soaking into his lovely white hair, the paleness of it causing the liquid to take on a cherry hue as his dead, lifeless eyes started up and the sky. A very, very pleasing vision it was.

"We should stop in the market to buy wooden blades," Do'Urden's voice cut through his pleasant thoughts like an ice cold, dull knife, hurting all the way until the thin thread was completely shattered.

Entreri snorted, "Why is that?"

The elf laughed, the sound coming out as pure and soft as small tinkly bells, "Because we would take it too far. We would kill each other, or at least attempt to."

He blinked and growled, damn the elf for being right, "Whatever pleases you." His voice once more sarcastic.

"You really are in a prime mood," came the equally sarcastic reply.

"Shut up, drow," he hissed, "Finish and get out so we can do this."

**_TBC... _**


	4. Chapter 4

**Drastic Changes of Heart**

**Four**

_A/N: Thank you soooo much for the reviews! I hope this chapter turned out alright, with the sparing and all. Like I said, I don't think that I'm very good with writing fighting scenes and such. _

_This one is for LordOnisyr, Lessiehanamoray, and especially Myar, if she hadn't shaken me dizzy and made me get off my pity pot this chapter probably wouldn't have happened until a few months down the road. Thank you!_

_Lessiehanamoray__: Thank you very much for your reviews! And so far Jarlaxle and Entreri are the only people who know about the bet. I'm not sure if the other two (Drizzt and Cattie-Brie) will ever find out. Most of my stories just take a life of their own._

_Lord Onisyr: As always, your reviews rock! They make me think that I actually know what I'm doing::BIG FUZZY HUG:_

_Alzadea__: Thank you so much for reviewing this story and my other ones! You're awesome!_

The only sound that echoed through out the thick forest was the constant crack of wood slapping against wood. At first the noise bothered the two combatants, but as their game progressed, both drew away from the stinging sounds and focused only on the movement of the other. Practice blades danced against each other, sometimes hitting with enough force to bend the strong wood, sometimes easily sliding against the other as if both fake blades were oiled down with the purest of liquid.

Entreri moved, placing one foot over the other in a slow sideways walk as Drizzt followed him with similar movements, both placing most of their balance on the balls of their bare feet. They had come to an agreement; all magical items would be discarded by a nearby tree and anything else that would give the other any advantage. After much arguing at what exactly should be taken away, they had both grudgingly settled on losing all clothing and items save for their britches.

The assassin focused all of his energy on the ripple of the elf's muscles, flowing like the calmest of waters under the blackness of his flesh. He watched every drop of sweat bead down his flawless ebony skin, taking in the small flexes of his torso as his feet slowly moved. The ranger's movements were so smooth and fluid that he had trouble remembering that they were walking across grass and not gliding on the newest of ice.

The sudden tensing of the drow's abs was the only warning that the human had before he charged forward, pivoting on the ball of his right foot, swinging his left up and across, taking a quick swipe at Entreri's face. The assassin backed up a step, his back slightly bending to just avoid the blow, bringing his wooden dagger in for a quick jab at the elf's extended leg. The blade met the wood of one of Do'Urden's scimitars, the hilt of the longer weapon, resting upon the drow's still moving leg. Before his that slender appendage completed its swipe, Drizzt's other leg shot out from the other side and clipped him on his check.

Entreri hissed back a cruse and dropped back a few steps, watching as the elf landed gracefully on his feet, his body crouched and legs crossed; one knee over one thigh. A position that looked rather uncomfortable, but soon the elf was once again moving. Arms started swinging in large, quick circles as he stepped towards the assassin, a slight smile playing across his pouty lips. The dull brown blades becoming a blur as the human tried focusing on every movement that the elf made. The flexing of his muscles, the sweat running patterns down his flesh, the slight bouncing of his small feet, and the fire of lavender eyes. Nothing else existed for him but the other man. The low hum of the rustling leaves and the chirping birds just rolled in the background, so soft the sounds were that he didn't even notice that they were actually there.

Without any further warning, the drow charged at him once more, blades clacking with enough force to numb his hands as his was suddenly put on the defense. The elf flipped his right wooden scimitar in a reverse grip and swiped at his face twice, once back and once forth. Entreri was forced once more to bend his back to avoid the blow.

The left scimitar came at him, this one twirling in his long slender fingers, coming right for his chest. He brought his practice dagger up, taking the handle and spinning it similar to what the drow was doing with his longer blade. The wooden scimitar stopped in its rotation and moved to slash across his chest. The assassin bent his back more and brought his dagger up to block, but unlike the elf, he kept his blade spinning. The twirling of his dagger met the slash of the ranger's blade, the momentum of the rotating wooden slid the longer blade straight past his chest and moved harmlessly to his other side.

As soon as the move was executed he felt the drow's foot come and clip him in the back of his ankle, hooking and lifting. With the angle that Entreri had his body, he had no choice but to accept the fall. His own feet raised in the air as soon as his back hit the grass. His legs snapped out, trapping Do'Urden's head between his calves and locking his ankles together. He twisted his body, raising up on his shoulders and rotating his hips. Drizzt's own body was caught in the momentum and he was flung across the small clearing by the force of the assassin's legs.

He hit the ground with a slight thud, sliding across the earth before getting one of his arms under him and pushing up with all of his strength, flipping to land once more on his feet. He blinked, his hair coming out of his loose braid falling into his eyes. That one small, tiny action cost him his feet once more and he found himself on his back staring into the grayness of the human's eyes. His breath came out in harsh pants and looking up to the sky his noticed that it was well past high noon. "Are we almost done?" he asked, his voice more than slightly breathily.

Entreri was basking in the glory of finally defeating the drow until his spoke, his melodious voice coming out deep and husky. His eyes dilated and darkened to an almost black as he realized that he was pressed tight to the other man's body. He was nestled completely between the elf's thighs, the long slenderness of them touching along his sides and hips, his knees bent and opened. A very, very inviting position. The drow's faced was flushed to a color that was more pitch than shadows, his full, pouty lips slightly opened as he tried to catch his breath. His sweat slicked skin seemed all but to glow in the light of the sun.

A small pink tongue darted out between those delicious looking lips to wet them and he was drawn to them. The wetness of them, the lushness of them, the absolutely kissable look of them. The tongue darted out again and he noticed that he was close enough so that the wetness just barely touched him. It sent shock waves through the human and he all but tore himself away from the drow elf. "Yes, Do'Urden, we are done," he stated, not looking back as walked over to the rest of his cloths.

He bent over and grabbed on boot, putting in on with more force than necessary before picking up the other and slamming his foot in to that one too. He grabbed his shirt and yanked it over his had with enough force to rip it if was any other ordinary fabric. He knew what he almost did to the elf, laying there on top of him. Their bodies pressed together, half naked, sweat slicked skin against sweat slicked skin... Entreri growled and reached for his sword belt, cursing Jarlaxle for whatever reason, he knew that it was entirely the mercenary's fault.

He turned and opened his mouth to make a smart comment, but the thought was lost when he saw that the elf was still laying on the soft grass. He sighed and walked over to the other man, his feet not making even a whisper of sound, yet Do'Urden kept his eyes on him the entire time.

When he finally reached the drow his held out his hand and made a gesture, just a small wave to let him know that he was willing to help him up.

Violet eyes stared at him suspiciously, "What are you up to?"

Entreri laughed, "What makes you think that I'm up to something?"

The elf let out a frustrated huff of breath; it was back to answering questions with questions. The forever game of Artemis Entreri. "Because," he said, "You're being... nice..." He spoke the last word as if that really wasn't what he wanted to say, yet he still reached up and took the assassin hand.

Entreri gave a hard yank and sent the drow immediately on his feet yet he kept on pulling until he was off balance and stumbling into him. Only when their bodies were once more touching did he let go of and Do'Urden frantically put his hands on the human's chest, quickly pushing away. He took the distance as a good thing and reached out to run fingers across a long welt that ran upon the dark skin of the drow's abdomen. "Nice," he snorted, fingers digging in to hurt, "I hardly think so."

Drizzt hissed as stepped further away, "I don't understand you."

Entreri shrugged, "Perhaps, or is it that we don't understand each other?"

**_TBC..._**


	5. Five

**Drastic Changes of Heart**

**Five**

_A/N: Annnnnnd here's one more! Hope that you still like this!_

That night found all four of them in the common area drinking, snacking, and talking of all things pleasant. Despite the fact that there were two drow sitting in the room everyone seemed to be in fairly well spirits. As if the presence of the dark elves didn't bother anyone.

Jarlaxle let out a hoot of laughter and slapped Entreri on the shoulder, "Of course he's in!" he exclaimed. Then with a wave of his hand and another slap he continued, "He's would just LOVE to stay until the week long festival is over with!"

The assassin glared at the other elf, trying with all of his might to put all of the displeasure of the drow's antics into that one look. But, as always, Jarlaxle was immune to almost anything that Entreri could dish up. Including his 'Glares of Death.'

He sighed, bringing his almost empty mug to his lips, not one to drink, the assassin thought it would be best to pace himself. Yet, at the same time, he had a feeling that the only way he could get through the week, since Jarlaxle seemed so keen on to staying, was to be as alcohol dependant as possible. Perhaps he could even blame his unsocial-lism on hangovers.

He let out another huff of breath placing the now empty mug on the table top to wave over one of the bar wenches for another only to find her already at his shoulder with larger tankard of the inn's trademark brew.

He blinked at her questionably when she smiled and placed it in front of him, picking up the drained mug. "Don't worry about paying for it, cutie, it's on the white-haired beauty at the bar," she added with a wink before walking off.

Entreri turned and tried to see through the crowd of people to find the person that she was talking about. Sighing again when he got no where he turned back to his companions and picked up the large tankard. He cautiously took a sniff, then dipped his finger in it to taste.

Well it seemed normal enough, complete with the lack of poison but no one could be too careful. He held the mug out to Drizzt and practically shoved it right under his nose. "Here," he demanded, "Take a drink and tell me what you think."

Do'Urden blinked long and slow at him, "Excuse me?"

Entreri growled, "Just do it, drow."

The ranger suspiciously took the drink from the assassin's fingers and brought it up to his nose, taking a whiff before dripping his finger in and placing that slim digit in his mouth to taste. The human stared at the finger, surrounded by those full lips, completely transfixed on the sight. Lavender eyes looked up from the mug to meet grey, all wide and innocent.

He felt the rage build up inside of him. Rage at Drizzt for making one small movement so undeniably erotic and rage at himself for noticing. He reached out and swiped the tankard from the long slender hands, "Give me that," he hissed through clenched teeth. He brought the mug to his lips, taking a long, large pull and swallowed. Then kept swallowing, refusing to let the slight fizz that burned his eyes bother him. Right at this moment he wanted to erase the image of that delicious mouth out of his brain forever. Even if the drink was poisoned, he thought that it was better than have images of Drizzt Do'Urden dance across his closed eyes lids.

Before he knew it, he had hit the bottom of the mug.

And once more the wench was there with a full one, "'Been told to keep yer glass full," she said with another smile and wink. "Me thinks sum-one likes ye!" she giggled as she walked off, taking the empty glass with her as she left the full one.

Entreri gripped the mug and turned in his chair, the legs scrapping against the wooden floor, catching the attention of the other three at his table. He was just about to stand and go to the bar and telling whatever little ninny of a girl that he wasn't interested when the crowed parted, people moving to sit down at vacant seats. His eyes fell on the person that was buying him his drinks or the elf rather.

His long white hair was in a million tiny braids threaded with black stone beads that no doubt clicked whenever he moved his head. It was impossible to say for sure with all the noise of the inn. His right hip was leaning against the stool, his black booted foot, propped up on one of the rungs. The form fitting clothing that he wore was no doubt made from the finest of silk, all in shades of black and dark grey that contrasted drastically with his pale face.

He turned his gaze away from the wench that had brought the assassin his drinks only to rest it on Entreri. The white elf smiled and titled his head to the side, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow at the human before lifting his own glass for a distant, silent toast and taking all a large gulp. The only indication that the stranger was indeed nervous.

Entreri turned back to his table, chair legs scrapping once more, noticing the looks of the other three. "What are you looking at?" he mumbled, his bad mood only escalating.

Cattie-Brie smiled, "What are you looking at?"

He glared at her, smiling inside when he noticed her flinch, "None of your business."

Do'Urden frowned at him; somehow the look made his bottom lip jut out slightly and take on the form of the most wonderful pout. Entreri hissed and gripped his mug once more blaming Jarlaxle for his twisted up nerves. He once more drained it and another was in its place.

"Yer keeping me far ta busy t'night, cutie," the wench said as she walked off, shaking her head, short brown hair brushing across her slim shoulders.

He grabbed at the new mug of ale and stood, his vision swarming for a span of .8 seconds before it cleared. He gave each table occupant another glare before turning on his heal, his tankard still gripped in a tight fist, and sought out the pale elf.

The assassin's grey eyes met clear crystal blue before Entreri jerked his head towards the steps that led up to the rooms. The elf's eyes darkened before he gave a nonchalant shrugged and picked up his own glass, this one filed with the reddest of wine.

"Damn elves," he muttered under his breath as he made his way to the steps, "and their damn prissy wine."

_**SS**_

Damn Jarlaxle too, he thought as he was shoved against the door of the elf's locked door. He figured it would be easier to leave the other man's room then to force the elf out of his. Soft lips grazed upon the side of his neck nipping and sucking at his pulse point but still the assassin found himself unable to relax. Masking his discomfort he quickly grabbed the pale elf's shoulders and switched their positions so that the other was now pressed against the solid wood.

The elf moved his head, trying to catch him on the lips for a kiss, but he quickly ducked and latched onto the smooth skin of the other's throat. "No kissing," he hissed in-between his nips hard enough to cause red marks form upon the milk whiteness of the elf's flesh.

The taller man just simply chuckled, "I knew you were that type, just by looking at you," he paused to let out a soft groan when the assassin found a particular sensitive spot just behind his left ear. "Is there any other rules that you have?" he continued, his words slightly more husky than before.

"No talking," Entreri was quick to reply, "and I get to be on top," he added as an after thought.

The elf opened his mouth to protest but all complaints were thrown to the wind when the human began to touch him with long sword callused fingers. And shortly after that all thought and words completely left him for good and all he could do was scream in pleasure.

_**SS**_

Entreri slowly snuck out of the room when he was sure that the other man was fast asleep, being an elf, it proved to be somewhat of a difficult thing, but he was a veteran on such things. He firmly shut the door behind him, his pants still slightly unlaced, his shirt unbuttoned and un-tucked, boot laces tied together and thrown over his shoulder, on his opposite shoulder he had rested his sword belt, and his cloak hanging from his arm. If anyone passed by him this late at night, there was no question as to where he had been. Even if his cloths were in some order, the rumpled appearance of his hair and the growing purple mark just under his jaw bone would completely give it away.

It was good, well at least it was better than what he had expected but his skin still felt too small for his bones. As if he was lacking something that he quite hadn't figured out what it was. It wasn't a new feeling, he had felt that way since Jarlaxle and he had first gotten to the town. At first he had blamed it on hormones and the fact that he really hadn't lain with anyone in a good long while. But now that he got that little problem out of the way, he realized that the uneasiness was still with him. Needless to say, it put him in even worse mood.

I slight, soft giggle pulled him out of his thoughts. He paused, his fists clenched tight debating whether or on to tough out the strangers in the hall or duck into the closest unlocked door and deal with the occupants.

"You, my dear, are far too drunk," Jarlaxle's voice drifted to his ears.

"Or not drunk enough!" Cattie-Brie enthusiastically answered.

"Well, I have more in my room," Jarlaxle answered her, and when the human assassin heard no reply he figured that she just nodded because soon the quite footfalls were heading his way.

Entreri did one thing that he never remembered doing since he was a small child.

He panicked.

He reached out his hand and gripped the door knob closest to him and when he found that one locked, the panic only got worse. He ran from door to door, finding each one locked as the drow and the Human Beast got closer.

He neared the end of the hall, and just around the corner was the duo. He took a deep breath, ready to except his fate when he tried one last door and went tumbling into the room filling with the glow of candles.

He sighed with relief when he shut the door and leaned against it, his shoulders slumping as his racing adrenalin calmed and left him drained. Dignity be damned, he'd gladly deal with whose ever room he broke into than see the look on Jarlaxle's face at the mussed state that he was currently in.

"Can I help you?" came the musical tones that he knew all to well, and with those floaty words there was a small splash of water.

Entreri slowly opened his eyes and stared at the vision before him.

Drizzt Do'Urden was leaning in his tub once more, the divider that separated it from the rest of the room was folded back to let the candle light cover the dark corner. The flames danced across the span of his ebony shoulders and down the slender, but tone arms.

The drow was half hanging out of the copper tub, his bottom half completely submerged while his arms hung over the sides. The blade of a tightly clenched scimitar reflected off of the candle light and made his eyes appear to be small flames of lavender. And in his other hand was a half full crystal of wine.

At this point, Entreri didn't know which was worse.

Jarlaxle and Cattie-Brie in the hall, or a naked Drizzt in a tub of hot steamy water.

That was when the assassin knew that all the Gods and Goddess of Faerun, both good and evil, hated him.

_**TBC… **_

_A/N: WAH! For some strange reason I LIKED this chapter! It was way too much fun to write! _


	6. Six

**Drastic Changes of Heart**

**Six**

_Think, think, think,_ the assassin's mind screamed at him. However, to his horrific realization, all he could do was stare.

The drow raised one delicate white eyebrow at him, "Entreri," he said, his name flowing off those pouty lips like the darkest of chocolate.

"Right," the human grumbled, "Yeah. Just passing through." He was at a complete loss for words and as he stammered, he came to another horrific realization: anything he could have said would have sounded better than what had just come out of his mouth. Even staying silent was better than the look on the ranger's face.

Entreri quickly shook himself, his mind racing a mile a minute, trying to find something; _anything_, to say to the elf. "Right. Ran into someone..." he trailed off and sighed. His shoulders slumped and he banged the back of his head against the door, "Never mind," he said. Then he once more looked to the elf, his eyes passing across the dark, wet skin and around the tub to rest on the bottle of wine.

He glared at the bottle and thought that perhaps he wasn't nearly drunk enough to be standing in the same room as a warm, wet, naked Drizzt Do'Urden at a candle mark after midnight. With that idea firmly placed in his mind he walked up to the large tub, dropping his boots on the wooden floor along the way and throwing his tunic and cloak on the elf's bed. Glaring at the other man, daring him to say something, Entreri picked up the bottle and began to drink. And drink, and drink some more, downing about half of what was left of the dry bitter wine until he came up for air with a slight gasp.

Do'Urden raised another eyebrow at him, "Rough night?" he asked and that seemed to break the tension that settled around the room.

Entreri let out a bitter chuckle, "You have no idea, elf."

The drow seemed to take his time answering as he took in his rumpled appearance, "I have a vague idea," came the soft reply.

That earned him a sort, "Right." So he took another drink, glaring at the nearly empty bottle, "Got any more?" he asked.

Another raised eyebrow, "It can be arranged?"

It came out as more of a question than anything else, as if the ranger wanted him to deicide weather or not he was drunk enough. Of course, the rational part of the assassin's mind knew that, even though, he was far from being completely drunk, screamed at him to stop while he was ahead. For some strange reason, with Do'Urden laying in front of him like feast fit for any king, just waiting and begging to be devoured, the thought of not drinking didn't sit to well with the rest of him.

So he did what was best.

"See that it does," he stated and turned once more to the door, taking purpose driven steps until he was safely on the other side.

He took a deep sigh, "What in the hells are you doing?" he mumbled to himself, resisting the urge to bang the back of his head against the hard wood of the door as he leaned against it. After a few moments he raised his head from its resting place and looked down the hallway, peering into the shadows as if he could find all of his answers there. Then with a cruel smirk, he pushed of the closed door and headed into that darkness toward his destination. His bare feet taking him swiftly into the corridors of the darkening inn without the slightest of sound.

Upon reaching that which he was looking for, he raised his hand to give a polite knocked to its occupants, warning them of his arrival only to stop just a hair short as a soft sound reached his ears. His eyebrows drew together in confusion; his mind was now surely playing tricks on him, right? But always the cautious one, he did what any good human being would do at this point in time.

He put his ear against the door and listened some more, his hand still raised; the back of it facing the dark wood and one knuckle slightly more stuck out than the other as if he were still going to knock.

The sound came again.

And again.

And again, until it became a rhythmic cadence, until it became louder, until Entreri tore away from the door, a mixture of horror and shock flashing across his features. He plastered himself upon the opposite wall staring at the door and taking in long large gulps of air until his head began to spin at the thought of what was going on behind that innocent looking piece of wood.

His mind could only process one thought and more to his added horror it escaped as a small whisper between his lips as he raced back to his, hopefully, awaiting alcohol.

"Ew," was all he said.

_**SS**_

For the second time that night, the calm collected Artemis Entreri burst through Drizzt Do'Urden's chamber door. Only this time he paused with his back against the thick wood for a breath before flinging himself at the drow. Or rather, at the open bottle of wine that the ranger was just about to pour into his empty glass.

And fling himself he did, quite literally, into the tub that the other still rested in. In the span of one heartbeat, he launched, grabbed the bottle from the elf's shocked fingers, turned so he would hit the water butt first, and pressed his lips to the rim, drinking the bitter fluid down even as landed unceremoniously onto Do'Urden's lap.

The room become deathly quite. The only sounds were the steady, rhythmic swallowing and the puffs of air as the assassin breathed through his nose in between drinks.

The seconds ticked by slowly, and still nothing moved save for Entreri's throat.

Until he reached up with one hand and placed his long, sword-callused fingers under the dark elf's chin to push his mouth closed. This action, of course, woke the drow out of whatever trance he seemed to be in, causing him to glare down at the assassin still drinking _his_ wine, and sitting on _his_ lap, in _his_ tub.

He did the only thing that he could at that moment in time.

He cursed.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing!" he hissed, his eyes becoming the small flames of lavender they did during battle.

Entreri didn't answer him, if anything else he just slowly lowered his bottle and moved so his back was resting against the opposite side of the ranger's, his gaze curious and calculating.

After more silence the drow sighed and slumped into the water his feet hitting the other man's legs before he bent his one of his knees and hooked the other leg over the side, his bare toes barely brushing the wooden floor. "Well?" he asked with a wave of one ebony hand before reaching over the side of tube that was hidden from the door, bringing another bottle of wine and uncorking it ungracefully with his teeth.

"Well," the human repeated, knowing that the word would only agitate his 'tub mate' even more. He took his time in answering, using his pause as an excuse to mimic the way the drow was lounging. When he got comfortable enough he took a long pull from the bottle and looked to the ceiling. "What is Cattie-Brie to you?" he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

He heard Do'Urden cough into his glass of wine and gave a small smile of triumph, knowing he had shocked the other man with his question, "What is Cattie –"

"I heard you," the elf cut him off, "Why do you want to know?"

Entreri shrugged, the water moving around his shoulders, "Just curious."

That earned him a cynical snort, "Artemis Entreri is never 'just curious'."

"True," he agreed, "but on this one I am." He sat up, bringing his still clothed leg back into the water and sat lotus style. "What is she to you?" he continued, "Is she a friend? A companion? Or is she something more?"

"She is my dearest friend," the other answered with all the confidence in the world. This brought light to his next question:

"Is she your lover?"

The elf had at least some shred of dignity left to not blush. Too much. But his checks did tint just slightly darker than the rest of his exposed flesh. Still he took his time to answer the assassin's question, judging on just what the other was looking for exactly. Was he really asking just for curiosity purposes only or did it run deeper than that? Was he asking because he had a personal interest in the firey-haired woman? Drizzt didn't think so, Entreri always was indifferent around her, if not out right mean. It seemed impossible to think of the two of them together.

"No," the ranger went with complete honesty for a lack of anything better to say, "She is not. Why do you ask?"

Entreri seemed to visibly relax from the elf's answer, his shoulders slumping as he returned the wine bottle to his lips to take a long drink. "Nevermind," he said, not wanting to let Do'Urden know about what his 'dearest friend' was doing at the moment. And why should he care what went on with the drow's life. As long as he didn't get pulled into something sticky between the two dark elves and the Human Beast, he really couldn't give a flying dwarf what went on. Yet as he gazed across the tub at the other man he felt his gut wrench in the most uncomfortable way, a way that had nothing to do with the massive amount of liquor he had consumed.

"Hey, elf," he said, his voice low and quiet, as if he was dreading his next words.

Do'Urden looked up from his careful examination of his half empty wine glass, letting the assassin know that he had his undivided attention.

Entreri took a deep breath, "You said that she wasn't your lover, but still... do you love her?"

This earned him one of Do'Urden's infamous raised eyebrows. Or at least they were infamous to him, "What about you, Entreri? Are you in love with her?"

Entreri forced his laughed to the back of his throat, "Not likely," he snorted, "Where did that question come from?"

The elf shrugged one slim shoulder, the movement causing small ripples to lap at the edge of the large tub. "Well," he said after a long sigh, "you're asking all of these questions about her... One would hove to wonder why."

Entreri returned the sigh, "No, I am most definitely not in love with the Human Beast."

This time not only did the ranger cough into his drink, he spit it out in a mixer between shock, horror, and laughter. "The H-Human Beast!" he panted amid his coughing.

The assassin looked embarrassed, as if he had confided in the elf to tell his most deepest darkest secret. "Yeah, well," he shrugged, "it's just a pet name I call her."

This time Do'Urden did laugh, "Pet name! That's so horrible!"

Entreri smiled as he drank in the sight of other man, his face flushed to a dark ebony as he continued in his mirth, "Then why are you giggling about it, elf?"

"B-be-because, its... so you... and yet," he seemed to sober up, a small smile still playing upon his full lips, "and yet, its not something you would normally say. It does explain a lot though. The way you treat her, she would be the Human Beast to you, wouldn't she? So tell me, Entreri, who isn't 'Beast-like' in your eyes?"

The assassin's breath seemed to catch in his throat, his mind working frantically to think of anything to say. Anything to put sound to the voice in his head screaming at him to tell the drow that he was indeed so not 'Beast-like' in his eyes that all he wanted to do was close the distance between them. To claim those prefect lips with his own just to see if they were as soft as they looked.

Something must have passed through his eyes as Drizzt's own lavender ones widened slightly, "Entreri?"

"It's not who, its what." stated the assassin, giving his brain a mental high-five for the quick cover up.

"Excuse me?" the other man sounded confused.

"The answer to your question. Its not 'who,' I think is not 'Beast-like' its 'what'." Entreri raised the bottle to his lips and took a long pull before continuing. "I think that this lovely bottle of wine is so wonderfully prefect it's almost sinful."

Do'Urden shook his head, "You're insane."

That earned him a shrug, "By the way, elf, you still haven't answered my question."

The ranger shot a bemused look to the other man.

"Do you love her?"

_**TBC...**_

_A/N: Ooohhhh boy, that one was hard to write! Sorry it took so long! _


	7. Seven

Drastic Changes of Heart

Seven

A/N: ::clears throat:: well... ummm yeah, how long has it been now? Probably WAY too long. I wonder if anyone is still reading this.... I am so very sorry about my lack of being in the world, but here is another chapter, way over due, if you ask me. I will try with most of my might to get the next one up and running soon.

Miss all you guys!! ::begging for forgiveness::

_Do you love her?_

The question lingered in the back of his fogged brain, but for some reason the answer that the elf had told him completely eluded his grasp. It was quite a disturbing feeling for the assassin; not being able to remember a detail of such importance as that one. He felt confused and disoriented, not something that he was used to even if it was too early in the morning to truly be awake.

His temples throbbed slightly, making him at once recall the massive amounts of liquor he had consumed the prior night. He rolled his head to the side, realizing the he was lying on his back and from the darkness swimming behind eyelids he was still slightly drunk. His eyes felt thick and heavy, as if someone had poured mud into his sockets sometime during the night. His tongue rolled in his mouth, trying to dislodge the cotton that seemed to be stuck in the back of his throat and plastered behind his teeth. His skin pricked in places, goose bumps breaking out across his exposed flesh. A light breeze touched his arm and part of his chest, this silken strands brushed upon him, dancing with the wind that crept through the open window planes.

As tired as he was, the fact that there was a weight pressing against his chest and a band of solid warmth that started around his waist and end just below his knee did not escape his notice. It was oh so very innocent, yet to the assassin, whose moments of passion had become too far and in-between for his own sanity -- it was oh so very intimate.

His fingers itched with his entire soul to reach out and touch those soft silk strands that he knew were the purest of snow. His sword callused hands ached to play upon smooth flesh of the deepest of ebony.

The drow moved, the arm around his waist tightening and fingers splaying to inch slightly upwards. His head tilted back as pouty lips parted in a sigh, warm breath dancing upon his paler skin. The almost too hot body pressing against his own, seeking shelter from the offending breeze.

Entreri's mind worked in frantic circles. Cuddling was not something that he did -- it was too... personal, private, something that only true lovers should be doing. Yet the skin clasped firmly against his own felt so deliciously wonderful it was taking all of his willpower to not reach out to the elf and snog his brains senseless. His hand involuntarily reached out, gripping a few strands of white silk and lifting them from his chest. His fingers played upon that tiny clump of spun snow, twisting the around before gently untangling them only to start over again. It was strangely relaxing; the repetitiveness of his actions and his eyes once more drifted shut, a small sigh escaping his lips as he did so.

After a few moments, which seemed like forever in Entreri's mind, he brushed the strands across his chin, enjoying the way they fell around his cheek and neck. Almost like small droplets of fresh spring water. He gathered them in his fingers again, bring them up, higher this time, to let them play upon his closed eyelids and across his temple. That alone seemed to calm the pounding in his head. Who would have thought that the mere feel of Drizzt Do'Urden's hair would be the sole cure for morning hangovers?

He sighed again, only this time letting the air out of his lunges in a slow release. His back arching and slightly shifting down on the bed, his arm tightening around the ranger's slim waist.

As if the drow knew what Entreri had wanted, Drizzt answered his sigh, shifting his own weight to settle more comfortably against the human. His face once more tilted up to bury in the side of the assassin's neck, lips opening and tongue darting out to lightly lick them.

Only this action caused Entreri to feel -- such a small, innocent gesture done by the sleeping elf. The tip just barely grazing pale skin right above his pulse point.

The assassin tilted his head back, letting go of the white hair, brushing upon his slightly parted lips as they fell. The arm around his waist moved, soft butterfly touches danced upon his torso and chest before resting his hand right above Entreri's beating heart. The elf's leg pulling closer to him, his face pressing tighter against his neck.

The other man swallowed and felt his heart-rate rise, his face slightly flushing from the contact. He brought his right arm up -- the one that wasn't around the drow's waist and brushed sword callused fingers down the elf's cheek. He felt the soft skin beneath his own, his breath rushing out in a wild hiss as if he had forgotten to breathe in the past few minutes. He cupped that smooth ebony cheek in the rough palm, his fingers moving and gently digging into the ranger's hairline.

He felt Do'Urden stir against him, his head lifting and tilting with Entreri's hand guiding him. Pouty lips brushing upon his jaw and even the small amount of stumble couldn't hide the fact that, yes, they were as wonderfully soft as they looked. The assassin groaned ever so quietly and the contact, his own head tilting down, those lips oh so close to his. Warm breath mingling with his own.

"Wha --?" came the voice hoarse with sleep.

His eyes snapped open and widened, violet orbs stared back at him in confusion, still slightly glazed from being woken up in such a state.

And just like that the spell was broken.

Entreri's hand automatically tightened on the white locks of hair in response. His other hand coming up and shoving the drow's shoulder away from him.

Drizzt's legs became tangled with the blanket and he tumbled from the bed. A surprised squeak coming from the floor as Entreri made a mad dash to the door.

He grabbed the handle, wrenching the heavy wood with such force one would think that it was made from the thinnest of paper. It slammed against the wall and came crashing back into its frame so hard that it shook the walls.

The assassin knew his was fleeing like a disgusting coward and for the first time in his life he welcomed it. He didn't know how he got back to his own room, only that he was there. His back pressed against his closed chamber door, wide eyes staring at the opposite wall, only it wasn't the wall that he was seeing.

In that last second, right before Do'Urden's door had almost slammed into his face, he had done the most stupidest thing possible.

He had looked back.

What he saw was the drow sitting on the wooden floor. Blankets tangled around his ankles as the leaned on the palms of his hands, his legs spread so invitingly open, complete with his knees bent. That white cascade of silk pooling around his shoulders and covering only half of his face. And Entreri oh so wished that it had covered all of it. For Do'Urden's visible eye was a flame of the purest of amethyst and his cheek was stained a darker shade of ebony then the rest of his smooth skin.

The only thing that he regretted, and loathed himself to admit was that he couldn't remember when the ranger had put his pants on. For if the drow was naked, it would have made a fine picture indeed.

S%S

He didn't go down for breakfast but when lunch rolled around he thought that he had better go show his oh so happy face to the rest of the public. Better that then to have Jarlaxle come looking for and oh by the Gods he didn't want that. Or worse, he figured that the mercenary would somehow browbeat Do'Urden to go fetch him. Probably giving some lame ass excuse like, "We're buddies now, aren't we?"

And Do'Urden being the disgustingly kind hearted elf that he was, would go. Gods forbid they should have a confrontation in the tavern area.

As much as Entreri didn't want to face Jarlaxle alone -- he definitely, absotively-posiloutely, did NOT want to face Drizzt Do'Urden - ever - as much as alone - in his room - ALONE - with the other just right down stairs. And Jarlaxle would just probably KNOW what would be going on if they didn't come down RIGHT AWAY.

Entreri let out a frustrated growl and scrubbed his hands across his face. He hated Do'Urden, that much was clear in his mind, but what he didn't understand is why the damn drow had to be so fucking beautiful, it should be outlawed for someone to look so delicious without even being aware of it. And the little bits and pieces that he did remember from the prior night; the way the water ran down that smooth black skin, reflecting the flickering flames of the lit candles. And oh Gods he was drunk and so was the gorgeous as sin elf and why oh why did he not take advantage of that!

Sighing he gave up that train of thought, shoving his conflicting emotions deep in the recesses of his mind and got down to more current problems.

Like lunch.

He might as well just face the battle - head-on - like a man. Like he always did. But he SO did not want to go down there. He knew that the Gods be damned mercenary would KNOW. He would know that the assassin had spent the night in Drizzt - fucking - Do'Urden's bed, and given that nothing had actually happened. And he wished and wanted -- oh he had wanted something to have happened -- but that. Was. Not. The. Point.

The point was that Jarl - fucking - axle would KNOW exactly just how much the evil and hateful man had wanted the ranger.

Before he could turn his thoughts into a complete circle he grabbed the brass handle of his door and wrenched it open with more force than necessary only to come face to face with the grinning mercenary.

Jarlaxle opened his mouth, his grin faulting just slightly at the look on the human's face.

"Shut up," was all he said before walking quickly past him and down the hall.

S%S

The sight that came he came to when he approached 'The Usual Table' almost made him turn about and march straight back to his room. Yet when he took a step back hands upon his shoulder blades - which could have only been Jarlaxle - gave him a slight push forward and Entreri reminded himself to tell the bald elf that if he ever touched his person again said drow would lose said hands.

The assassin stumbled forward and tossed a glare at the other man who answered by a wide grin and a raised eyebrow.

He yanked out the chair and sat down with so much force that it shook the table. The other two occupants both looked to him. The Human-Beast glaring - not bothering to remove her hand from Drizzt's back. Do'Urden rolled his head to the side not bothering to lift it as it cradled in his bent arms. His white hair fell like small waterfalls around his face and shoulders and it took every ounce of the assassin's will power not to reach out and tuck the loose strands behind that pointed ear.

He quickly looked away, going for the safer rout instead. He locked his gaze and scowled at... What in all the Hells was her name?!

She smiled back at him and moved her hand to where it was rubbing comforting circle across the ranger's shoulders to his head, her fingers falling into the spun snow.

He clenched his jaw so tight that he thought his teeth would break. He wanted, so much at that moment, to grab her vile hands and break her knobby fingers beyond repair, just to wipe that infuriating smirk off of her disgusting face.

Do'Urden let out a small moan; bring Entreri's attention back to him. The drow's face had taken on an ashy hue and he clenched his eyes tightly, turning to bury his head into the cradle of his arms. "Cattie-Bri please stop, you're making me nauseous," he moaned again and the Human-Beast frowned down at his hair.

The assassin suppressed a smirk at the exchange trying his damnedest not to laugh as he flagged down a bar wench. He whispered something in her ear trying to ignore the greasy curls of hair that escaped her tightly wound bun. She frowned at him, not completely sure about his order before he glared at her. "Just do it," he demanded in a low voice that made no room from argumentation and she gave a small squeak of fright before scampering off to the kitchens.

"Cattie-Bri, my dear," Jarlaxle was saying, "I don't think that Drizzt likes to be touched when he's nursing a hangover."

The red-haired woman slightly pouted when the said drow gave a small moan of agreement. She looked down at his cradled head, "Just how much did ye drink last night?" her voice was filled with a certain kind a curious wonder.

Do'Urden slowly lifted his head to look at her, hair cascading around him like pure water and took a deep breath before answering, "I assume it was quite a lot, but I really don't remember."

Entreri's fingers twitched on the table top, a move that did not go unnoticed by Jarlaxle, much to the human male's horror. He shot a glare the mercenary before reaching into various pockets searching a great deal through each one of the before finding what he was looking for.

Without a word he got to his feet, his head still slightly throbbing, but not nearly enough to deter him, and stood behind the hung-over dark elf. The Human-Beast gasped when he reached around, each hand coming up on either side of the drow's head before he gently and carefully started to gather all the thick beautiful hair in his hands starting at his temples. Entreri made sure to make this project as business-like as he could, but yet he still could not help himself as he ran his fingertips along the edges of the ranger's pointed ears.

Do'Urden was stock still, his back straight and tense, no doubt he thought that Entreri was waiting for just the right moment before reaching around his neck to choke the life out of him. Entreri bent and let out a low chuckle into the drow's ear, the muscles in his jaw tightening as the assassin's warm breath ghosted across his cheek and down his neck. "Relax," the dark-haired man whispered, "It'll make you feel better." And with that he once more stood straight and finished gathering all of white hair and quickly tied it into a low loose ponytail, tying it off with a dark thin strip of leather that he had dug out from one of his pouches.

When he sat back down, everyone, including the drow ranger, was staring at him in wide-eyed shock. Entreri glared at each and every one of them. "Didn't think I was going to slit his throat or choke him out did you?" he growled, then huffed in amazement when all three of them nodded. "Please," he continued, "Not with so many people around."

Do'Urden and The Human Beast's eyes went fractionally wide while Jarlaxle just gave a loud laugh, "My friend," he gasped, reaching across the table to give the assassin a hearty slap on the shoulder, "we need to work on your sense of humor and joke-telling. Both are somewhat lacking."

Entreri open his mouth of reply but the wench returned and put a large tankard full of lumpy gooey dark green liquid in front of him and stomped off without another word. He picked it up and sniffed it before taking a cautious sip. When a bitter slightly disgusting flavor hit his tongue he knew that whoever had made it had gotten it fairly right. He set the glass down and slowly pushed it over to the ranger.

"For you," he said when the three continued to stare in amazement at him, "It'll help with the hang-over."

The dark elf eyed the glass warily, "What is in it?"

Entreri sighed and resisted the urge to lie to him and say that the glass mug was filled with enough poison kill a full grown ogre in five steps. But instead, "You're better off not knowing. It's an old Calimport cure. Just drink it." Then he paused, and contemplated for a quick second, "Fast," he continued as an afterthought, "so you don't taste it."

Do'Urden's face turned serious and he nodded, bringing it up to his lips and tilting his head back and downing the lumpy liquid in four great gulps.

_TBC..._


	8. Eight

Drastic Changes of Heart

Eight

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A/N: Very many thanks you all of you who are still reading this and to those of you who took the time to review. Very, very, very many thanks to Luma, who, out of the kindest of her dear heart, beta-ed this for me. THANK YOU!!

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They had mutually decided to forego their daily sessions due to Drizzt Do'Urden's hang over. Even though the strange and foul tasting concoction that Entreri had made the kitchen staff mix for him had him feeling marginally better, he still wasn't one hundred percent. So the dark elf ranger found himself sitting in one of the many lounge areas of the inn listening to many of the tales of Jarlaxle. He smiled and gave a chuckle every now and then when it was due but he only was half listening to the other drow's recitation of his adventures.

He felt Cattie-brie shift beside him and gently lay a hand on his knee, momentarily giving the woman his undivided attention, he looked to her and offered a small smile. He laid his hand over hers, giving it a light squeeze to let her know that he was just fine, if only a little distracted.

She smiled brightly back at him and turned her hand over, lacing her fingers with his. He was suddenly caught off guard at the gesture. Her hand, rough and worn from years of battle felt nothing like the assassin's sword calloused ones. While Drizzt realized that his and Entreri's hands were very similar in size, Cattie-brie's was somewhat small. As many times as she had held his hand, just as she was doing now, it never felt more strange to him. He could feel the dryness of it and even though Entreri's hands were rough as well from battle, his was somehow smoother than the woman's who sat beside him. It seemed strange to him that the assassin would take better care of his skin than Cattie-brie.

Drizzt frowned, his thin arched eyebrows drawing close together in confusion. Only after just feeling the human male's finger tips barely brushing upon his temples and ears, he was already comparing them to that of his long time friend's.

He had once thought, not so long ago, that perhaps Cattie-brie could become more than a friend to him. So why now was he wishing that, instead of the red-haired woman's hand in his own, it was the moody assassin's.

Before he could process the rest of his thoughts, he picked up movement from the corner of his eye. Turning, his curiosity rose as someone he had never laid eyes on before walked up to Entreri and leaned over, invading his personal space as if he had every right to.

The assassin stiffened only slightly at something the man immediately whispered in his ear, words too quiet for even the drow's sensitive hearing. A small tightening of the jaw and shoulders was the only indication that Entreri was not happy. The man that held himself so confidently in the presence of the deadly human was slender, all angles and grace. His white hair, held in hundreds of small braids, fell around his shoulders and obscured most of his features from the drow. And through all those braids the point of one ear showed. Drizzt tried not to frown as he realized the nameless elf didn't even know how close to death he was.

Entreri turned his head to face the elf, reaching out and gripping a handful of those small, thin, braids, the black beads woven into them softly clicking together. His fist tightening as the other man tried to pull away, finally coming to notice that he had crossed an invisible line somewhere. He barely moved as Entreri's hand gripped him even harder. The elf hissed in pain and Entreri answered that hiss only with low words that once again were too soft for Drizzt to pick them up.

Then the assassin abruptly let him go, the elf taking quick steps back and glaring at the dark-haired man before turning on his heal and leaving.

The exchange couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, yet it was enough to draw the attention of the room's other occupants.

Entreri sighed and stood up, hands burrowing into the folds of his cloak. "Don't worry about it," he said, his voice deep, steady, and very, very angry before he too left the room without even the slightest whisper of sound.

"Who's worried?" Cattie-brie nervously mumbled at his side, only just now noticing that her hand was holding his in a death grip and his fingers were going numb from the lack of blood flow.

S%S

"Entreri!" came the soft cry, and despite himself, the assassin found himself slowing his pace to let the ranger catch up to him.

And when he did, he reached out to lightly touch Entreri's elbow. If Artemis Entreri wasn't Artemis Entreri, he would have jerked at the shock of the small gesture. Even through a layer of cloth he still could feel the warmth of the dark elf's hand on his arm. And much to his growing annoyance at himself, he didn't completely hate it.

"What was--"

"How much do you love her?" the assassin interrupted and Do'Urden dropped his hand in confusion at the sudden question and the mood swings that the human was going through. He couldn't blame the elf. He was confused at them himself. "The woman that you travel with," he elaborated, "how much do you love her?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" the drow hissed, his face slightly flushing from rage but not before having a strange sense of deja vu. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could have sworn that they already had this conversation, or at least one similar like it.

"It doesn't," he snapped, wishing he could keep his calm persona around the beautiful elf. He knew he had asked the elf before, but like most things that had happened in the prior night, he couldn't recall what the drow had told him.

Do'Urden let out a frustrated sigh and gave into the stubborn assassin, "I love Cattie-brie very much. She is one of my very few dearest friends."

"Yes," Entreri hissed through clenched teeth, "Of course the noble and goodly dark elf, Drizzt Do'Urden would love his dearest friend 'very much'. So, tell me elf," he looked directly into those wonderful purple orbs, "do you want to bed her?"

The elf flushed once more, this time with a mixture of embarrassment. "What!?" he exclaimed, shocked that Entreri would ask such a question.

"Do you want to bed her?" he asked again, his voice no longer raised, but somehow that was more frightening than him yelling for all of the Realms to hear. "I understand that, as of right now, you two aren't lovers. But do you want her to be?" he continued, "Do you want her to lie on her back and spread her legs for you like the whor-"

Drizzt's eyes became twin flames of violent lavender, "If you wish to keep your tongue, Artemis Entreri, then I suggest that you don't finish that sentence."

"Threatening me never works, drow," he glared right back at him.

"I am not threatening you, assassin. I am making a promise," Drizzt shot back at him, his voice low and dangerous, the tones of it going straight into Entreri's lower stomach.

"Even more of a reason to slit your throat," and the human believed his own words even though part of him pointed out that he had plenty of chances and plenty more reasons to do just that. It would be a blessing to be rid of the elf, to finally be free of this growing lust that he was facing when dealing with the dark elf ranger.

Drizzt stepped up to him, evading his space more so then his last night's fuck had, because Drizzt had no idea what Entreri thought of him.

"You despise me," the drow stated, "I know that. So why, when you have had more than a chance to kill me, didn't you take it?"

Entreri was lost for words, fighting himself to not reach out and pull the damned elf nearer to him.

The ranger leaned closer to him, not taking any more steps, but tilting his body so he was nearly flushed with the other man. "Why, on more than one occasion, have I thought that you were about to kiss —"

He once more interrupted the elf in mid sentence and he found it slightly humorous that most of their conversations were like that. His hands reached up and grabbed onto the elf's upper arms, taking quick steps forward to slam the drow into the hallway wall. "You're delusional," he hissed, his mouth inches away from the ranger's.

Drizzt's eyes were still flames of purple, growing darker, his pupils almost taking over completely, "Am I, Entreri?" He whispered, his tones still angry and deep, "I may be slightly naive, but I'm not an idiot." To prove his point, the ranger leaned forward and closed those few inches between them, not getting very far, only a small brush of lips, before Entreri once more slammed him into the unyielding brick of the inn's wall.

The drow gasped, his mouth falling open and that was all the assassin needed. With a growl of pure, unadulterated rage, Artemis Entreri brutally sealed his lips upon Drizzt Do'Urden's own, his tongue lashing inside to taste the entire elf.

He was not disappointed; Do'Urden's taste flowed into him. Honeysuckle and spice and oh so delicious and if Artemis Entreri was a lesser man, he would have moaned at the glory of it all. Hands of the darkest ebony reached up and tangled in the back of his shirt, tugging and gripping so much that the dark-haired human thought the fabric might tear. The assassin's own hands left the drow's shoulders, one coming up to entangle in long thin snow-white hair. The silk of it ran through his digits like pure water and the thickness of it surprised him.

His other hand went down, resting on the other man's hip to squeeze and pull closer, flushing their bodies so close together that it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began.

The ranger moaned, a sound deep in his throat and kissed the human back with equal force. His knees wobbled, leaning more into the kiss before breaking it with a much needed gasp. Only one he got before Entreri's lips returned to his, biting and sucking; open mouthed and hungry and the dark elf thought he would pass out once again as the assassin stole his breath from his lungs and all thoughts from his mind.

"Breathe through your nose, elf," Entreri whispered between heated kisses, his voice low and husky.

The assassin's mouth moved lower, finding just a small space of flesh between his jaw and the high collar of his shirt and tasting it. The elf's skin tasted just as wonderful as his lips did. He licked and sucked before bringing teeth to bare to bite. Do'Urden tilted his head back with another moan, exposing more skin to Entreri's talented tongue, lavender eyes rolling up in the back of his skull and oh by Mielikki he couldn't remember, in all of his life, feeling this good.

Just as suddenly it started, it abruptly stopped leaving Drizzt's mind reeling and sinking to the floor on unsteady legs as he watched the assassin suddenly flee down the corridor, his booted feet not making a single sound.

"Drizzt?" came Cattie-brie's call from not too far away and he was grateful that Entreri was paying close attention to what was around them, when the ranger was not.

Then reality came crashing down on him and the desire that the deadly assassin awoke in him was turned to complete and utter shame. He hung his head, resting his elbows on his bent knees as he dug his fingers through his long hair, gripping it tightly at his scalp. He felt the woman's hand on his shoulder and he couldn't bring himself to look upon her. "I am well, Cattie-brie," he whispered, trying to keep his self loathing out of his voice.

She huffed and sat down beside him, "You don't sound well at all," she stated, taking one of his hands in her own and untangling them from their death grip on his hair. "Come on," she coaxed, as if he was a frightened child, "let go. You'll go as bald as Jarlaxle if you keep doing that."

He turned his gaze to her, looking at her out from the corner of his eye, still unable to face her. He found her smiling at him, trying to lighten his mood and still not knowing what had upset him so.

She sighed again when her joke had no effect, "You shouldn't let him get under your skin like that," she said, her dwarven accent completely gone.

His heart stopped beating in his chest and the air was so thick he couldn't draw a single breath, "You saw?" he asked, glad that his voice didn't squeak in utter terror.

Confusion ran through her clear green eyes, "Saw what?" she questioned, "I knew you followed him, probably trying to be nice and ask if everything was all right." She let out a huff of breath as if to say to him that he was a fool for even trying. "He more than likely said something to upset you just so you would leave him alone."

Relief flowed through him and he released a great whoosh of air, his heart beat rapidly in his chest as if to make up for the long seconds it had refused to do its job. He leaned back again the wall and gave her a small smile.

"You are far too much of a goodly elf, my friend," she smiled back at him and rested her head on his shoulder.

He offered up a small chuckle, "You have been..." he paused as his brow drew down in thought.

"Hmm?" she encouraged him, taking up his hand once again and playing with his long slim fingers.

He turned to face her, to really look at her, his expression completely serious as he slipped his hand from hers, "You have been touching me more than you normally do."

She shrugged as if it didn't bother her, "Have I?" she reached up to playing with a strand of his hair, yet before she could get to her destination, he intercepted her and placed her hand back into her own lap.

"Yes," he stated, "You have."

"Oh," she smiled, "I didn't notice." Her voice held truth that supported her words, yet her eyes became fearful.

"What are you feeling guilty about?"

Panic took over her face as she bit her lip, trying with all of her might to find something to say to her friend. She knew that he cared for her, and she for him. Very deeply in fact, but how could she tell him what she had done the previous night.

She looked to the opposite wall, to the ceiling, to the floor. She averted her gaze to see anything but the curiosity that was shining through his eyes.

That's when she spotted it.

Lying not too far in front of, where Drizzt was sitting. A seemingly innocent piece of fabric, yet when she picked it up to inspect it and look to her friend it was her turn to see the fear in his eyes.

"Drizzt?" her eyes widened as his face drained of color as he too looked to what she held, "Is this Entreri's glove?"

S%S

Entreri fled down the hall as if Loth herself was on his heels, his head fuzzy and spinning. Oh gods and goddesses could Drizzt –fucking- Do'Urden knows how to kiss. It was hot and heavy, yet graceful. The goodly elf kissed just like he fought, with all of his being behind the act to make it unforgettable.

His hands were shaking as he fumbled for the latch of his door, arms coiled with so much tension that if anybody tried to stop him from reaching the inside of his rented room they surely would have met their demise.

His hand slipped once again from the brass latch, sweaty palms making the smooth metal difficult to grip properly before tearing the door open. He barely made it through, slamming his shoulder against the edge of the hard wood with enough force to leave a mark.

Maybe later he would remember where the mark had come from. Maybe later he would feel more than the fire boiling through his blood and the incredible tightness in his stomach. Maybe later he would feel foolish if anybody had seen him fall to his knees and reach for the ties on the front of his leather trousers before his chamber door even had time to close.

He heard himself panting; looking down at his still gloved hand wrapped around his ridged flesh; his mind screaming at him from different sides.

_Oh, oh and oh._

_Pathetic and oh gods and goddesses, so good and what are you doing?_

_Do'Urden's lips and Do'Urden's skin and gods and goddesses that tongue._

He came in seconds, with a hoarse cry and white stars dancing under eyelids that he didn't recall shutting. Breath heaving in his lungs as his mind finally caught up with him.

He sneered down at his hand, still griping himself in a loose hold, his black glove ruined with his release. Gloves that Jarlaxle had just bought him less than a ten-day ago and now one was ruined beyond repair.

Sure he could probably wash his essence off of it, but he would be reminded for all his time what he had done whenever he put them on. He would know that he had desperately stroked himself like a child due to one taste of a drow ranger's lips and ebony flesh. He had let go with such a force that he was still reeling from it, his throat slightly raw from his cry and his skin still damp with his sweat.

He reached up with his unsoiled hand and touched his forehead skin feeling hot beneath his fingers which brought him somewhat back to this plane. His hand was bare, missing its glove and that's when he remembered his hand slipping on the handle of his door, his palm too sweaty to get a proper hold.

He had discarded it somewhere in the hall, or outside his door, or, perhaps it was sometime before that.

He blinked and held back a curse as he recalled yanking the thick material off of his fingers so he could press his thumb against the soft skin of Drizzt Do'Urden's cheek.

_TBC..._


End file.
